


we'll never sleep

by becuille



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ficlet, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Smut, Submissive Kylo Ren, minor mentions of blood and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-21 06:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becuille/pseuds/becuille
Summary: Prompt: Kylo needing Rey but loathing himself for it, looking for a way to release his frustration and rage, relying on her to recognize his needs and fulfill them while taking her own pleasure in being able to exert a level of power and control.





	we'll never sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChecktheHolonet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChecktheHolonet/gifts).



> Please accept this treat for your lovely prompt ♡

Kylo hates that she makes him wait for her.

It’s been 27 days since he saw her last, since he last touched her, ran his fingers through her hair, or heard her call his name. There have been tentative skirmishes from the Resistance, futile little attacks with their weak numbers and scrapyard starfighters, but he hasn’t seen her once.

He hates her having the upper hand, making him yearn for her in her absence. It could be tactical. She could be making him weak and distracted to defeat him, her enemy. Or she could be dead for all he knows, drifting lifeless through the emptiness of space. The thought alone makes him want to tear through this compound he’s stuck in and blow it apart at the seams.

Kylo stands, spotting her on his periphery at last, slight and unmistakable. She is like a warm breeze bringing life and colour back into his existence, and his heart stutters in relief and longing as the Force connects the two of them.

“Where have you been?” he asks, trying not to sound fazed.

“Shut up.” Rey says, already pacing towards him. When her voice is cool and uncaring as it is now he would let her do anything. If she asked him for information he might just give it to her as long as she holds him down and commands it of him.

Rey pushes him to his knees roughly by his shoulders wasting no time. Her strength is enough to send him to the ground but he goes willingly. But she seems more battle weary than the last time he saw her, something about her is more crumpled and tired than before. He runs his hands over her, circling her flesh through her clothes, assessing her, until she stops him, taking hold of his wrists. 

“Do you want this?” she asks. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, _please_ ,” he says through gritted teeth. 

“Then show me,” she says, spurred on by his desperation.

Kylo pushes clothing out of the way and kisses up her muscled legs and lithe stomach, as if they might be the last warm thing he’ll ever touch. He kneels before her as a worshipping supplicant and looks up at her. She looks just as desperate as he does. Kylo revels in the thought that somewhere, wherever in the galaxy she is, she’s been suffering without him too. Her parted lips let out a sigh as his mouth finally touches her where she needs him to.

He’s ashamed at how eager he is to touch her all over instinctively, to please her. This is all her fault. He could have continued to float between apathy and rage if he had never met her. She makes him desperate and weak and miserable and he resents her for it. Kylo pushes his tongue inside her, avoiding her clit, wanting to make her feel an ounce of frustration that he’s felt.

“Come on, come on,” Rey says, provoked, rolling her hips so she presses harder onto him. 

Kylo feels inadequate and small while she has dominion over him. He can’t even please her properly. He can’t even crush her pitiful excuse for a rebellion without thinking about her night and day. He tries harder, gripping her hips and going faster how she needs it. If he pleases her she might come back to him sooner.

She pulls him up by his hair in a groan of frustration, pushing him down, and he falls back easily. 

Rey sits astride him and her strong thighs encompass his, holding him in place. Nothing about her is soft. Her body is toughened by upbringing and by war, and she is rough and blistered by the sun. She could put up a good fight if he resisted her, despite their physical disparity. 

When she lets him enter her, almost a month of loneliness and anger and aching have been worthwhile. Praises and pleas fall out of his mouth on their own and he bucks up into her quick and impatient. She still holds him down with firm pressure to his chest with one hand, the other touches herself with a feverish pace.

She bites his lip when she comes. His blood is in her mouth and she’s left another mark on him he doesn't want to heal.

“Wait,” she commands him as his breath starts to hitch, close to coming. He stops, but every part of him aches. “Don’t move.” 

Every cell in his body screams at him disobey. A few more thrusts up into her and he could be done with it, he could wrestle with her and push her onto her back and have one small victory over her, but he doesn’t. Kylo lies still, breathing quick and heavy with blood thrumming in his ears. 

With effort, Rey raises herself up and rides him so slowly. It almost hurts as she slides against him, and he could hate her again if this continues, he thinks. Until she appears satisfied with his suffering and says “Okay, you can come, Ben,” and kisses him. 

He grips her slim hips and fucks her hard above him, how he’s been dreaming of doing for weeks, and finally he comes. 

Afterwards, Rey rests her head on his chest, fingers circling constellations of freckles spattered across his arm and over the edge of his scar. She speaks to him, or at him, and he lets her; this is when she’s most talkative. She tells him about planets she’s seen, ships she’s flown, only ever the absolute minimum but her face lights up with childish glee as she speaks. He hasn’t seen any planets. He spends most of his time alone in the grey confines of the First Order base. Maybe she comes here because she pities him.

She kisses him then, slow and sweet and Kylo forgets it all, the war, who he is, where she might be. She falls asleep quickly, more exhausted than he is, the creases in her face smoothing out as she drifts off. When he wakes in the morning she has gone.


End file.
